Title: Give Me My Wings
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Date: June 14, 1999
August 27, 1999
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Briefly, allow me to warn you. This story picks up a year or two
after "Getting Out," but makes many references back to the events of and the
events immediately after "Getting Out." I am *not* pleased with this fanfic.
Yet, I seem unable to find a way to fix it. Should you have any advice, hints,
suggestions,*anything*, please e-mail me! This one *needs* a little constructive
criticism!
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"Give me my wings - I'm ready to fly today.
Ready to wave my worries good-bye.
Give me my wings - I'm ready to ride away.
Ready to leave my troubles behind.
What's over my head will soon be under my feet
Give me my wings!"
-- from the song, "Wings" by 4-Him
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The dragon's eyes bored into Razor's skull as the ponderous
creature closed on him. Razor ducked his head to ignore that deceptive
gaze and tightened the fingers of his right hand, fingertips brushing the
keypad at the center of his glovatrix. Amber eyes watched the dragon's
chest as the wounded animal bore down on him. The SWAT Kat's mind was
only half-occupied with gauging the dragon's nearness, the other half was
debating the best weapon for the circumstances.
The animal's thick skin was nearly impenetrable, especially to
the mini-Turbo Blades and low-powered laser he had left. The cement launcher
would only buy him time... and enrage the dragon. And, there was nowhere to
run trapped in this corner of the shattered building anyway. Behind the
creature was only a fifty foot wall of rubble where it had plummeted into
the ravaged skyscraper. Belatedly, Razor chastised himself for not pushing
his damaged jetpack to carry him farther from the battle when he'd gone down.
The PastMaster's beast was almost upon him when Razor finally jerked
his right arm up and into a firing position, the decision made. As the dragon
swung its head down to snatch him up in its massive jaws, the SWAT Kat found
the soft area of its neck, just under the jaw. He squeezed a finger into
the appropriate pad on his glovatrix and a mini-Turbo Blade shot out to drive
into the dragon's neck, slicing his jugular vein.
Its roar becoming a gurgle of surprise, the dragon threw its head up,
keening mournfully, as its life's blood spilled away. Simultaneously, Razor
realized the need to get clear. He leapt to the right, trying to avoid the dragon
when it fell. His reaction time was seconds too slow. Caught beneath the dying
dragon, Razor felt the incredible crushing weight and then his chin struck something
hard and the world fell apart.
His last image was a glimpse of the dragon's wings, beating futilely in
its death throes. Wings. Dragon wings. Kat's wings. Kat. Dragon. No, kat.
Kat with wings....
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A kat with wings... Out on the town... That night...
Jake "Razor" Clawson shifted his weight from one foot to the other
several times as he waited for the TurboKat to come to a full stop. The
sable fighter at last eased into a gentle halt a generous ten feet from the
back wall of the hangar, the whine of its engines dying slowly.
As Jake watched, the canopy slid away and his partner, T-Bone, stood to
turn around and begin unstrapping his unconscious son from the weapons officer's
seat. Wordlessly, Jake stepped forward to awkwardly take the young kat in his arms
as T-Bone hefted him down from the jet. T-Bone followed, leaping to the floor
of the hangar and taking Max from Jake's arms.
"He gonna be okay?" Jake asked worriedly, wondering what had happened to
the preteen during his little 'excursion.'
"Yeah," T-Bone returned. He tossed his friend a lop-sided grin over
his shoulder as he started to walk away, carrying his son. "If his mother doesn't
kill him."
As though realizing they were speaking of him, Max stirred in his
father's arms. His eyelids fluttered as he tried to locate the source of Jake's
voice.
"I didn't tell her....," he mumbled. "I didn't tell her it was you who
taught me how to do it.... How to fly..."
Wings. A kat with wings.
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"What were you thinking?" Chance "T-Bone" Furlong demanded of his son as
he stood, framed in the doorway to Max's room.
The tiger-striped kitten sitting on the bed before him shrugged, refusing
to meet his gaze.
Chance sighed deeply.
"Let me guess - you weren't thinking," he snapped.
Again, Max shrugged, looking down at his bare, frog-like feet.
"Max! You could have gotten yourself killed jumping off the roof! What
on Felinus made you think you could fly with that... whatever it is of your's?!" his
father demanded.
"I got the right shape....," Max returned, non-talkatively. "I thought... why
not?"
Chance slumped back against the door frame, his anger ebbing into belated worry.
"I guess I can't say much... I'd a' done it when I was your age if it had
popped in my head...," he murmured to himself. He sighed again. "Just *please* don't
try another stunt like that, okay?"
Max nodded, mute.
Chance started to say something further, to tell Max he was grounded, some
form of appropriate punishment. Then, his eyes followed Max's gaze to his over-sized,
webbed feet. Ground Max? That was absurd; the boy was effectively grounded from
any socializing as it was. The familiar guilt piercing his heart, Chance let it go
and left the room.
Jake stepped away from his position on the other side of the door as Chance
passed him. The two traded a glance, infinite sadness flowing from the big tabby.
Even then, he could sense it. Sense the gap widening between himself and his son.
Jake understood. That was why he was there that day. Because he knew that
Chance wanted him there. He never agreed with Chance's logic on that. Never. Max
needed his own father, whether he would accept him or not, not a replacement.
But, there he was, brought by Chance's unvoiced request and his own feelings for this
unusual child - his "nephew."
Max was still studying his feet when Jake came in and sat down on the second
bed beside him. The kitten seemed to draw into himself as Jake approached, as though
he wanted to be invisible in his shame.
"Just how like wings can you make the... gelatin be?" Jake asked, studying not
Max's abnormal feet, but his face.
Max looked up at him suddenly in surprise.
Wings. He wanted wings.
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"Larger," Jake urged, stepping around the tiger-striped kitten "You're going to
need several more feet of wingspan," he advised. "Can you," the orange-furred kat
paused, searching for the right word,"... grow that much?"
Max nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating. He grunted as his body
released more of the oozing green substance that already protruded from his back in
two lumpy shafts.
"A little more on the right," Jake coaxed. "They're getting uneven."
Max's head jerked up and down in recognition of the advice as he strained
to comply. Eyes shut, mind focused on a general shape for the goo that only
agreed to his control grudgingly, long seconds passed before Jake's call to
stop traveled from his ears to his consciousness.
Complying at last, Max's head came up and his brilliant green eyes focused
on Jake.
"Is it ready?" he asked hopefully.
"You did good on the wing shape," Jake relented. He frowned in thought,
producing a distance gauger and targeting Max's 'wings' with its laser reader.
"Twelve feet," he murmured, reading the gauger's display. "Should be in proper
proportion to your height and weight."
"I'm almost as tall as you," the over-sized ten year old chimed, voice
bearing a hint of a singsong taunt.
Jake's face twisted in a sardonic grin.
"You don't need to remind me," he chuckled. The slim kat shrugged, adding,
"I expected as much from any son of Chance's."
Max grinned.
"But, I'll be bigger than Dad!" he boasted.
"It wouldn't surprise me... at all."
Wings. He had wings.
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Max's 'wings' beat furiously and then, with a thrust of his legs, he was
airborne. Jake gaped as the wind caught the huge wing-like appendages and carried
Max several feet into the air.
"It works!" Max shouted joyously, limbs akimbo.
Seconds later, he was plowing painfully into the ground.
Jake ran to him, wincing in sympathy, face worried. As the elder kat reached
his side, Max pulled his head up from the dirt and looked at him sadly.
"I guess it *won't* work," he mumbled, heartbroken.
Jake looked him in the eyes, all seriousness.
"Max, the Wright brothers were airborne for a handful of seconds during that
first flight at Kitty Hawk..." His gaze intensified. "Did it make them quit?"
"You mean...?" Max started hesitantly.
"They knew they were on the right track," Jake returned smiling. "And, so
are we."
Wings. He would fly on his own wings.
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"Hey, whoa! Watch it! No fair!" Jake yelped, ducking down as Max
swooped low over his head, the mutant youth's lizard-like tail whipping by just
over his ears. "Watch the tail!" he bellowed after the smirking kitten as Max
caught an updraft and headed upward once more.
Max's chuckles floated back to his ears.
"Buzzing the teacher is grounds for detention," Jake shouted up at
him, shaking a fist in mock anger. He paused his rant to duck again as Max banked
and dove at him anew. This time, however, the tiger-striped youngling's calculations
were wrong and he plowed headfirst into the ground.
Max pushed himself up quickly, spitting out a nice quantity of grass.
"Yeech!" He spat again, working his tongue in his mouth furiously to
rid himself of the taste.
"You're going to have to work on that," Jake muttered, smirking smugly. A
glance had told him that Max's only wound was to his pride. Seeing Max lurch to his
feet, the slim kat stepped a few feet back to give him room to take off again.
Wings. I helped him find one set of wings.
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Jake looked up from his seat in the TurboKat's cockpit where he
was checking wires and connections to the main weapons console as the computer
announced his son's entrance.
Ryan trotted over to the jet and clambered up the access ladder Chance and
Jake once ignored in favor of a more dramatic leap to the wing. Middle age had at
last compelled Jake to see the ladder's possibilities; Chance was still resisting
the march of time with his usual bravado.
On level with the cockpit, the leggy youngling scrambled out onto the wing.
Thoughtfully, he perched on the wing's edge, legs swinging as he spoke.
"Dad?"
"Hmm....?" Jake returned, one ear twitching toward his son as he poked
at the keyboard in his lap one-fingered.
"What's Max gonna do when he grows up?"
Jake was silent for a minute, but Ryan knew better than to assume he just
hadn't heard or was avoiding the question.
"I don't know, Ryan," Jake at last admitted honestly. "He's the only kat
of his kind... and I think we both know how much chance he has of being accepted by
the rest of the world..." Jake sighed. "And, the only thing he's ever wanted to
be was a SWAT Kat."
"But, you aren't paid for that!"
Jake clambered out of the cockpit to walk over and sit down by his son.
"Well, there's little chance of any paying job having him. He has a home
here, and Chance and Callie will certainly keep him fed - hard as that is." Ryan
snickered with the dig at Max's inexhaustible appetite as Jake continued. "I don't
know what he'll do, Ryan. He *will* be a SWAT Kat when he's old enough, if he
still wants to. As to any other jobs... only time will tell," Jake finished
with a sigh.
Ryan nodded thoughtfully.
Jake grinned at the thoughtful frown on Ryan's face.
"Save some of Max's problems for after lunch," he advised.
Wings. They need their wings.
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"See if you can plug that circuit board in while I hold it in place,"
Jake asked his son. He was straddling the edge of the TurboKat's cockpit, balancing
himself there and leaning over awkwardly to support a large component-laden panel, the
bulk of his newest variation on the jet's targeting computers.
Ryan nodded from his spot in Razor's seat at the rear of the jet. Slim
as the young kat was, it was a tight fit with two of them crammed into the tiny
area.
Jake studied Ryan closely, sensing some form of hesitation. Quickly, he
debated with himself if this task was as simple as he'd thought it was. Yes, the
connections he needed immediately were no greater than connecting a TV to a VCR.
The more complex work could be done later. Reassured, that he wasn't asking too
much of Ryan, Jake caught the boy's eye.
"There's a large cable down there - a big thick one," he explained. "I
need you to plug it into the main power systems. It's not a plug - the end has
two spade terminals on it..." He paused to dig around and produce an example of a
spade terminal, displaying the tuning fork-shaped connector to the kitten. Ryan
nodded in response and Jake continued. "The black wire is negative, the red
positive. The corresponding leads should be color-coded to match. If they're not,
tell me and I'll look at it."
Ryan nodded again and doubled over to scramble under the panel, one hand
groping for the cable Jake had mentioned.
Jake waited, shifting the panel a bit so its weight was balanced better.
A sudden sizzle of electricity and a wild flurry of sparks from the board he
was holding, made him jerk back in surprise, nearly dropping the board.
"What in the....?! Ryan, are you okay?" he called urgently.
"Yeah... I'm fine," a shaky voice returned as Ryan resurfaced.
Briefly, Jake murmured a mental prayer of thanks that they were both wearing
insulated gloves. Ryan's mumble brought his full attention back to the boy.
"I'm sorry, Dad," the kitten half-whispered, looking down as he held up a
length of melted wiring.
Jake squinted at the wire, trying to figure out just what had gone wrong.
"I dropped the red wire....," Ryan explained.
Then, he understood. Ryan had inadvertently dropped the positive terminal onto
the negative half of the circuit, completing it prematurely and sending an
electrical current through the board. Jake sighed, more at his own lack of cautions
than anything else... and at the reaction he knew Ryan would have to this development.
"Ah well," the orange-furred kat mumbled. "Good thing I have a spare, eh?"
He smiled at Ryan encouragingly. The kitten looked up at him, brushing
black hair from his eyes and smiling weakly. Then, he looked at the destroyed circuit
board in dismay before releasing a stuttering sigh of self-disgust.
The son of two technical whizzes couldn't be expected to have the same talent.
And, Jake had never expected it of Ryan, especially once it was clear that it was not
his field. What Ryan expected of Ryan was a whole other story....
Wings. Would he find his wings?
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"Max!" Callie hugged the precious prodigal as he weakly assured her he
was fine.
"I'm sorry, Mom," he mumbled. "I just... just wanted to get out... to see it
all in person... just once."
"I know, I know," she soothed as Max again drifted into unconsciousness.
Wings. He wanted wings.
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Max slid to the carpeted floor limply, every inch of his frame slumped
in despair. Seeing him, Jake looked up from tending the coffee pot in surprise.
Max's posture indicated that he didn't realize anyone else was around. Jake quickly
let his gaze fly from the huddled kitten to Chance, who had been sleeping on the
couch lost in his own thoughts since last night's events. Since last night when Max
had "gone out."
Chance was looking at his son sadly. His face twisted in grief and pain.
Max's black moods crossed a whole gambit from fury to depression. But this one
seemed to lean more toward the despairing. Even at a distance it was clear the boy
was crying. Clear even though his sobs were carefully hidden in his shirt as he
curled his head into his chest, burying it between his knees and body.
Cautiously, Chance sat up from his sprawl across the couch's length, making
just enough noise to warn Max of his presence. The tiger-striped child's body
went rigid immediately.
"Max,...," Chance started slowly, deep voice rough with emotion as he half rose.
"Go away," Max muttered, head still down, voice muffled.
Chance paused and debated, working the situation around in his mind.
"Max,.... I know that was rough... what happened last night... But, all
kats wouldn't react that way to..."
Max brought his head up quickly.
"Yes, they would. Just... go... AWAY!"
Chance's face contorted in pain.
"Max, I...," he started.
"Don't you think you've done enough damage?!" Max screamed, jumping to his
feet.
Chance backed away.
"I just...," he started helplessly.
"You just ruined my life," the teenkat returned, glowering at his father.
"I hate you!" With that, he was gone, storming from the room, lashing tail swinging
into the doorframe heavily on his way out.
Chance sank down onto the couch.
"I can't do this, Jake," he murmured as Jake approached him on silent feet. "For
a while last night, I thought... I hoped... But, no... he won't have me... Someone
needs to guide him... Someone he will accept..." He paused, staring into infinity for
a long moment before breaking the profound silence that had settled on the two. "You
taught him to fly, Jake..."
Jake was dumbstruck.
"Chance, I can't... I...."
"Please, Jake." Chance's voice was quiet and even, Jake sensed more than
heard the sadness, the plea in his tone.
"Alright, bud."
Wings. Help him find his wings.
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"Can we take her through the canyon?" Max asked eagerly over the roar of
the TurboKat's engines.
"I'd rather not," Razor returned, glancing back at Max from the pilot's seat.
"Stunt flying is your father's specialty." He paused, debating if this was the right
time to bring it up. "If you want, I know he'd be more than happy to take you for a
nice, high-g, adrenaline pumping run any day you want."
Max was silent and Razor sighed within himself.
he thought to himself in near-despair.
Wings. Would he find his wings?
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Wings. Wings. Wings. The jumble of memories was skittering apart. Razor
tried to relocate it. Tried to catch the fragmenting strands. But, it was useless,
only the present would come to him now.
The present?
An acrid smoky odor was burning his nostrils, making it hard to breathe.
A tremendous weight was settled across his back, pinning him to the ground, which
felt more like polished tile than dirt.
Razor tried to fight through the haze clouding his mind and remember where
he was. It was no use. Neither the knowledge nor full consciousness would return.
He was drifting in limbo, somewhere between a gaping void of confusion and reality.
But, finding the reality was near-impossible. He grasped at it for what seemed hours,
struggling to remember. More and more though, he was slipping into the void. More
and more, he was letting himself. He was tired. The chase was too arduous. He could
rest in the void...
Wings... What was so important about wings? Real and figurative wings
danced along the fringes of his consciousness, toying with his tired mind. The
SWAT Kat screamed with his mind for them to stop. To let him be. But, they ignored
him, ignored his pleas.
Wings. They had something to do with Ryan... and Carrie... and Max... Well,
Max had wings... when he wanted to anyway. No, there was more to it than that.
More... But what?
They need their wings.
They would find their wings. Was there more he could show them?
Max needs you.
Max needs his real father!
Yes. But, you must help him until he can accept his father.
He wanted to help him... But, was there more he could do?
Ryan needs you.
Mary* needs you.
Chance needs you.
Chance. Chance? T-Bone.
"T-Bone!"
"Razor! Razor, speak to me, buddy!"
T-Bone's voice was distant, but growing closer by the second. Then, he
could feel the larger kat beside him. Suddenly, the weight crushing him was removed.
His diaphragm no longer compressed, Razor drew in a gasping breath and opened
his eyes. The blurred blue and tawny shape before him could be no other than T-Bone.
"Are you okay, bud?" T-Bone demanded.
"Yeah...." Razor tried to push himself up, his vision clearing. A splitting
pain ripped along his side. "Ow... On second thought, I think I have some cracked
ribs..."
"Well, a dragon did fall on you...," T-Bone pointed out, helping Razor to his
feet gently and then supporting the wavering kat. He squinted at his friend. "And,
you have a nice lump on yer noggin." He glowered at his partner. "Hospital. Now."
"I'm not fighting you," Razor returned, exhausted, his head still throbbing.
A regular thrum filled the air abruptly, interrupting their conversation. Razor
looked upward, pain knifing through his skull as he did so, to find a helicopter
swinging in toward them.
"Kats Eye News," T-Bone commented. "Think you can stand on your own?"
"Yeah," Razor returned, stepping away from his friend. He didn't need anyone
comparing the wounds of the SWAT Kat Razor to Jake Clawson, who would be showing up
in the emergency room shortly with injuries from an 'accident' he had yet to devise.
"Smile for the kids," T-Bone whispered as the chopper came in close.
Razor nodded and did so, grinning broadly inwardly as well. The kids.
Their laughter of only days ago replayed in his mind.
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Jake stood unnoticed in the doorway and just chuckled at the scene before
him.
Max was looking down at the plastic lightsaber's rounded tip, buried in
his abdomen. He looked back up at the figure, diminutive alongside his huge form,
holding the lightsaber.
"Phfft! You're dead," his sister Carrie assured him, twitching the handle
so that the other end tickled Max's midsection.
Max glowered at his triumphant twin, suppressing a giggle at the tickling
sensation with great effort.
"Psst," Ryan hissed from his position in the grip of Max's powerful
prehensile tail. "Dead kats fall down and drop things they're holding," he hinted.
"However, I'm not a normal kat, so I don't die," Max declared, leaping
away from Carrie.
"I just seared your innards all the way through with a lightsaber, you
doofus! You're dead!" Carrie shrieked, swinging at Max anew.
Backing away, Max tripped over a soccer ball and tumbled over onto Ryan's
bed. Ryan wriggled free just in time to avoid being squished as Max hit. Carrie
took every advantage of her brother's situation and charged him, swinging wildly.
Jake winced as the bedstand lamp, not Max, caught the blow and tumbled to
the floor. All activity stopped with the sound of its bulb shattering. Three
guilty faces traveled from the lamp suddenly to him. Jake just grinned.
Wings. They would find their wings.
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Razor's grin broadened as the news chopper flew in close. They'd find their
wings alright. And, he'd help them... any way he could.
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*Mary is Razor's wife. I'm apt to mention very little of her as her
story is unwritten yet and as she is a character being shared/developed by
myself and AJ Siytangco.
Thanks goes to Seeker for helping me with that brief electronics lesson!
Let's hope I didn't botch up what he told me too badly ;)